Tujea sat down slowly.

"Have you had a good trip, Mr. Investigator?" A woman asked with a smile.

Her chestnut eyes glowed with a coldness that was the exact opposite of her expression, her skin was pale, and a long scar spread from her right cheekbone to her lower lip, turning her thin lips into four. It's weird, and she's by no means beautiful.

Things like chemicals and the intensity of her work ruined the woman's genetics and turned her into a person who was known to be difficult to get along with.

But that's not something Tujea needs to worry about.

"Not good." He said.

Of course, his journey was not good, he came to this remote world on a cargo ship.

Moreover, he was only one of the countless investigators employed by the Imperial Legal Department, and his salary was not very good. This made it difficult for him to get a separate room on any ship, even a cargo ship.

So he had to huddle with forty-two sailors in the same filthy room, which was dark, hot, and humid. His clothes always switch back and forth between wet and dry, and his food is terrible.

In fact, the food is always bad.

"Oh, I sympathize." The woman said insincerely. "So, what are you here for?"

"Investigate." Tujea said.

He tilted his head and removed his wide-brimmed hat. The black tweed hat had been with him for a long time, and it was no longer what it used to be.

"Investigation?" The woman asked.

Instead of looking at her again, Tujea looked away and turned his gaze to the other corners of the room. He began to observe, and nodded.

"What are you going to investigate, Mr. Investigator?"

"Some trivia." Tujea turned around and answered her question dryly.

At the same time, he put his right hand in the inner pocket of his coat. The woman's cold gaze turned at a constant speed, and her hand followed into her inner pocket.

Seconds later, Tujea pulled out a handful of organic candy. They were wrapped in cheap gray paper with twisted and crumpled words printed crookedly. It took him several minutes to pick out one of them.

The woman stared at him silently, watching as he put the rest of the candy into the right pocket on the outside of his coat. Her eyes still kept that weird roll, never blinking.

Tujea ignored her. He just lowered his head, slowly peeled off the specially selected candy, and threw it into his mouth. His battered taste buds felt no sweetness, only a strange sourness.

He narrowed his eyes, as if he was enjoying himself.

"Mr. Investigator." The woman finally spoke again. "Welcome to Litatra."

Tujea nodded at her, stood up, and placed the candy wrapper on the table, laying it out little by little, and a line of small gray letters appeared on it.

[The Emperor is waiting, citizen! 】

He left the candy wrapper, put on his hat, and turned to leave the police station in Litatra's 2nd District.

The boat he was on docked in the starport in the area was inspected and inspected, so he had to show his ID to the law enforcement team who came to inspect it, and they immediately became nervous when they saw the badge with the double-headed eagle on it.

Even a low-level investigator has some kind of power that they absolutely cannot disobey, not to mention that this person does not seem to be an idle person.

So, after about 14 minutes, Tujea was taken back to their place of work by the officers of the second district who had arrived in a hurry, and began to accept forgery documents and some simple questioning.

Of course, during the fourteen minutes of waiting, the captain of the cargo ship continued to curse him in public.

Tujea ignored him.

Just like at this moment, he didn't pay attention to the scrutiny coming from the streets. He walked slowly, aimlessly down the dirty, greasy road for about two-thirds of an hour of Terra.

Litatra's place was no different from any other nest he had ever seen, the same terrible environment, the same lifeless. From time to time, cars will speed past in the middle of the road, mostly police cars, and sometimes transport vehicles.

The buildings on both sides of the road are very old and look dusty. The sky was dark, and it was almost night, and the workers in turquoise uniforms were walking lifelessly and weary on their way home or elsewhere.

The worker who took their place passed through them with an even more unlovable expression, his toes sweating and wrinkling in his boots, and he cowered at the coming hard labor, but there was no way to escape.

Tujea reached into his coat and stopped on the side of the road.

He didn't have a suitcase or anything in his hand, at least not now, and the captain burned them all. He was angry, angry, so he did something irrational. But that's okay, Tujea understands him.

If a cargo ship is connected to an investigator, it will basically not have any smuggling business in the future. Moreover, for all captains, the smuggling business is the most stable part of their income.

The smugglers who roam the galaxy have a much better reputation than the Empire.

Tujea's eyes narrowed.

Crowds come and go, and he is unswayed. He stood in the blue-gray sea like a black-gray ghost. His coat was dirty, his pockets bulging, and the green eyes under his wide-brimmed black hat scanned around like a hungry eagle.

After a few minutes, he left where he was and began to continue walking along the sidewalk. He had never been to Litatra, and this area was naturally included. But, somehow, he seemed to know how to find his way.

As time went on and his steps quickened, the ground on which his old boots tread began to grow dirtier and dirtier. The air he breathed was also turning from hot to cool, and the pungent smell of chemicals filled his nose.

He went all the way and all the way down. Finally, he walked up to a strong man, and then slowly stopped.

The man was taller than him, looking down on him, his coat made of leather material that did not fit well, and his arms were very tight. He held an automatic gun and stood in front of a door.

The surface of this heavy iron door is very gorgeous and colorful. But that's not its original color, it's the neon tubes that have been strapped to the door with wire.

The lamp tube was bent to form a dozen letters, and then a hard word was being coined, and a terrible noise was coming from behind the door, accompanied by vibrations.

【Hee Kiss】

"Is there anything wrong with you?" The man with the gun asked very unceremoniously.

"I want to go in." Tujea said.

"What for?"

"Drink."

"We don't sell alcohol! I don't care about you! The man roared rudely, stench and saliva spurting from his mouth.

The condition of his teeth is very bad, and the sentence of not selling alcohol is of course a lie, and the latter sentence is even more rude. But, for the sake of the gun in his hand, Tujea temporarily made the lie the truth and silently forgave him for his rude behavior.

It stands to reason that people who have nothing to do will be scared off at this stage, but Tujea is different.

He's an expert on finding things to do.

"Let me in." He looked up and asked the man. "I'm not going to be in there for long."

"Oh, don't even think about it." The man smirked at him. "Do you think I don't know who you are, idiot? The news of Starport has spread! ”

At the same time, Tujea was keenly aware that there was some deliberate noise coming from behind him. Some were approaching, and it was clear that the bar had many guards in place, along with their countless peers.

He frowned.

Yes, all the people who live in the gray area of the nest have a rudimentary or complex intelligence network, they are always well-informed, and they can always get what they want by various means.

However, he was in the police station for less than forty minutes.

Even if you count the time it took him to get here, it wouldn't have been more than three Terra hours in total. This time is not even enough for an addict to cool up the last time, but his identity has been exposed at a glance.

As he pondered, a gun was held to his waist, and Tujea glanced sideways, and an ugly, sweaty face burst into his eyes.

"You don't want to die, Mr. Investigator?" The man asked.

"Of course." Tujea said.

Other than that, he didn't say anything. Everything seemed to be calm, but his muscles were completely tense. It all came down to a smell he smelled.

It was a strong, abnormal stench that was emanating from the owner of that ugly, sweaty face.

Slowly, Tujea raised his hands, turned around, and passed through the ill-intentioned crowd, leaving the alley little by little, remembering the faces of those who emitted the stench.

To his slight surprise, everyone but the big man had that smell.

With this in mind, he walked out of the alley, but instead of going far, he leaned against the wall at the left end of the outside of the alley, and slowly extended his right hand into the inner pocket of his coat.

At this moment, the sky had completely darkened. I don't know if it's because it's so far away from the normal living quarters that the place is neither dark nor bright, and the low buildings have an eerie quality that makes people upset.

Tujea looked at them absentmindedly, and a heavy revolver was taken out by him. Extended barrel, twelve-round projectile, composite grip

He traveled all the way to this remote world, and went through a total of three body searches. Once for a cargo ship, once for law enforcement, and the last time for a police station.

But, for some reason, neither the sailors, nor the absent-minded members of the law enforcement team, nor the officers on standby, failed to spot the heavy weapon that had been in the pocket of Tujea's coat, as if it had never existed before.

"That bastard is absolutely insane, shit, these investigator lunatics, Litatra is not a place for them to go wild," someone said, walking towards where he was.

There are many footsteps, but not just one. The sound of their boots on the ground was not very pleasant, as noisy as their sneer. They joked and walked over slowly. Obviously, they weren't reassuring Tujea and wanted to make sure he was really gone.

And that gave him a chance.

There was a thud of gunshots, and a bullet pierced a sweaty ugly face. Three more gunshots followed, and Tujea departed from the wall, his coat fluttering, and the green eyes under his fedora stared intently at the stunned group of guards.

That's the last look on their faces.

Tujea ran out of twelve bullets in one go, leaving seven corpses behind. He turned, retracted, reloaded, and slowly returned to the mouth of the alley, leaning against the wall again.

About half a minute later, there was a sharp sound of heavy footsteps from the alley, and a man's violent gasp. He approached, then froze, and the sound of breathing died down in an instant. Tujea could almost imagine the look on his face

But he still wanted to see it with his own eyes.

So he left the wall and returned to the alley.

He held a gun.

"Don't move." Tujea said, coughing twice. "You don't want to die, citizen?"

The strong man let go of his hand at the speed of light, and with great amusement, threw his automatic gun in a pool of blood and among the corpses of his companions. The shock and confusion on his face was rapidly shifting into a more complex mixture, and Tujea ignored him, tilting his head and motioning for him to turn around.

The man nervously complied, sweat on the back of his neck. Tujea lifted his right foot, kicked him to the ground, and pointed a gun at the back of his head. He glanced back at the mouth of the alley, and no one had come to check on it yet.

It was good, it meant that the security situation in this place was not much different from the worlds he had experienced. Law enforcement teams and police officers are only willing to stay in safer places, and these gray areas are left to the occupants themselves to maintain order.

Tujea turned around and struck the man in the back of the head with his gun.

"Who is it?" He asked.

"What?"

"Who's in charge of this place?" Tujea asked, slowly pressing the hammer.

He'd asked it at least a dozen times, and there were plenty of them in every nest. 'Stewards' are just one of the names, they are bosses, mongrels, sluts, murderers or sadists.

For Tujea, though, there is no difference between them. They all deserve to die.

"Gore!" The man replied immediately.

"I won't ask you how you know who I am, but I want to know another thing. I have only one request for you, citizen, do you understand? Just such a request, as long as you agree, I will leave immediately. ”

"Say it, damn it!" The man said with a shudder.

"Where can I find this Gore?" Tujea asked. "I'm going to hear at least three place names from your mouth."

The man did so immediately, Tujea only wanted three, but he gave twelve. His mouth turned into a machine gun, and the names of the places were ammunition, gushing out of his mouth in a steady stream.

His low Gothic accent was so strange that Tujea yawned and couldn't help but tap his head with his left hand. Little by little, his mind was emptying, and while remembering the names, he had even begun to guess the big man's childhood

"Is that all?" Tujea asked.

"You can't get more even if you kill me!" The man screamed in reply.

"Thank you for your cooperation, then, citizen." Tujea said. "I won't kill you, after all, you are a citizen of the Empire. Of course, these people are not counted. Now, I want you to do two more things for me, can you do it? ”

The man nodded stiffly.

"I want you to get down with your head in your hands and lie down for at least five minutes, and I'll be gone at four minutes and thirty seconds. You can choose to wait for the time to end, or get up early and take a gamble with me. ”

"As a reminder, I'm a person who values the concept of time very much and absolutely keeps my promises. Therefore, I go crazy whenever I see people who are not punctual and like to lie. Do you understand? ”

The man let out a muffled grunt in a pool of blood, face down.

"Thank you, citizen, then, one last thing. There's one thing I want you to report to your boss. ”

Tujea turned his head to look at the seven bodies.

"What, what's the matter?"

"Let him check these people." Tujea said. "Grey order is also order, don't you think?"

——

Tujea didn't like interrogation very much.

Don't get me wrong, he likes what he gets after the interrogation. Such as information and messages, names or places. But he didn't like the interrogation process, he didn't want to get dirty. Sometimes, however, you have to do this to make a little progress.

"Go on, citizen." Tujea said. "Until you're done."

A female clerk sitting across from him, sobbing, nodded tremblingly and began to redouble her efforts to write and draw on the piece of paper in front of her. She wasn't hurt, after all, this was a legal institution, and she was just an ordinary person begging for a living.

The reason why I cried was simply because I was scared. This is normal, after all, not long ago, Tujea had just taken down all the guards in this exchange in front of her, very crisply, very neatly, without a single shot from beginning to end.

Tujea listened to her crying and the sound of pencils rubbing against the paper, and slowly lowered his head. He lifted his right foot and kicked a man. The man snorted, and the hand that tried to touch the gun stopped, and a viciousness mixed with fear appeared on his bruised cheeks.

"Gore will kill you, investigator." He said indistinctly. "You don't even understand who you're fighting against."

"No, I understand perfectly." Tujea said. "Also, sorry, citizen."

He lifted his foot and kicked the man in the face so that he would fall unconscious.

Of course, Tujea doesn't know if this Gore has the courage and determination to kill an investigator, but he will decide whether to kill him or not.

He has this power, and the investigator is essentially just a glorified title, and Tujea is well aware of the nature of his job and the only thing the Ministry of Justice asks of them. Tujea doesn't always follow this requirement to do things, he has his own guidelines.

But Gore, whom he has never met, is likely to have violated this rule.

His guidelines, while those of the Ministry of Non-Governmental Affairs.

Frankly speaking, there are not a few such people, and most people who have a certain amount of power in the gray area are actually very afraid of death.

They know what to do and what not to do. Smuggling contraband and dangerous goods are two different things, but there are always people who can't tell the difference between right and wrong, and they like to challenge not only the local laws, but also the laws of the empire.

For these people, Tujea does not address them as citizens of the empire.

The sound of pencils grinding suddenly stopped.

"Are you done?" Tujea asked.

The female staff nodded with tears and handed over a rudimentary map with the names of the twelve places Tujea had taken from the mouth of the big man. Also, if you ask, yes, this exchange he's on now isn't any of these locations.

He wasn't familiar with Litatra, but he was familiar with the gray area. He understands that in such a place, there must be some people standing behind any 'legal institution' that may have the slightest connection with the authorities.

So, he picked an exchange and broke in. He's lucky, he didn't find Gore, but he didn't get into trouble with a new 'steward', and he got a map—

"—Jingle Bell"

Tujea turned his head to look at the phone with brass handles mounted on the wall. Instead of picking it up immediately, he nodded to the female clerk and thanked her for her help.

Then he lowered his head and began to fold the map carefully, taking the opportunity to observe the scenery outside the open door. Sure enough, he caught a glimpse of several shadows flickering in the darkness.

Tujea looked up, put the map in his coat pocket, and then walked over to the phone and picked it up.

He didn't speak, just waited. Seconds later, a female voice came from the other end of the line: "You're a madman, investigator. ”

"Thank you, Citizen Gore." Tujea said, leaning against the wall and reaching into the inner pocket of his coat with his right hand. He remained motionless, observing the scene outside the door.

The shadows he saw were increasing.

"You made me lose face today, although it is not my property to kiss you, but the few people you killed will be counted on my head. I took the money and sent them, do you understand? ”

"They're your people?" Tujea raised an eyebrow.

"So what?" Gore asked slightly irritablely.

"Well, then, I suggest you look them up. This is not a sowing discord, just a simple suggestion to comply with it or not on your own. Also, citizen Gore, did you send someone? ”

"No, just a few little ones who gave me a message." Gore was silent for a moment before replying. "What do you mean?"

Tujea put down the phone and pulled the trigger out the door. Twelve bullets, twelve gunshots, deafening. He finished firing the bullet and clipped the phone to his neck before continuing to look down and reload.

"Damn, what's going on?!" Gore roared on the phone. "I warn you, you'd better not touch anyone on that exchange!"

"I didn't kill them." Tujea said. "It's someone else, they're trying to kill me."

As if in response to his words, a corpse smashed through the glass door of the exchange and fell on its back, blood immediately staining the black and white floor.

"What?"

"You heard it right." Tujea replied as he beckoned to the female clerk, but she did not dare to leave from behind her desk anyway. So he sighed and switched to another scheme.

He raised his gun, aimed it outside the exchange, and said into the phone, "Can you send someone to support me?" ”

"What?" Gore asked in a confused tone.

"It doesn't do you any good that I'm dead, citizen Gore. Based on the speed of your intelligence network, there are probably quite a few people who already know that I'm looking for you. ”

"So if I die, or go missing, the news will quickly leak out and form a rumor that you killed me."

"Then, according to the law, the law enforcement team and police officers in Litatra had to come and look for me. You will suffer, trust me. Therefore, your best option now is to send someone to support me, and pray to the Emperor that I will not die. ”

Ending his tirade, Tujea closed his mouth and fired twelve more rounds out of the gate.

The attackers shouted and fired back outside the door, with very poor accuracy and not even a lot of bullets into the exchange. But, in any case, Tujea now regrets a little bit that he stunned all the guards.

He lowered his head and began to wait for an answer.

On the other end of the line, in a desperate silence, Gore spoke.

"You go out from behind, go east, and you'll see a church." She said slowly. "It's twenty-two minutes until midnight, and as long as you can get into that church before midnight, you're safe."

She hung up.

Tujea frowned slowly.

Midnight? Church?

For some reason, he felt a chill.

(End of chapter)